


Royal Flush

by PunishedPyotr



Series: The Esteemed aireyv Crashes Rarepair Week [6]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Big Boss is disgusting, M/M, Portable Ops is assumed canon, Time Travel, ass eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 18:20:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14699679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunishedPyotr/pseuds/PunishedPyotr
Summary: After taking the virginities of Liquid, Solid, and Solidus, Otacon is left with only one more Snake to deflower: Big Boss himself.





	Royal Flush

**Author's Note:**

> I kept saying I'd do this and y'all kept saying I should

Colorado, 2018. 

“And, uh,” Otacon said, “you’re sure this works? I mean, the theory is sound and all, but…” 

“Oh, I’m _sure_ it works!” Sunny said brightly, “it just spits out at a different location.”

“You did some tests?”

“Small ones up until today. But I obviously convinced you, because you sent me this text an hour ago.” She pulled it up on her phone and showed it to Otacon. _It worked!_ , it said, _I’m in Texas for some reason though._

Otacon pushed his glasses up his nose. “Uh… huh?” He pulled out his own phone to see if that was, somehow, in his sent texts, but it was definitely not.

“I must have sent you back in time an hour,” Sunny said. “I mean, it _is_ ready for human trials now. I’m pretty sure, anyway…”

That wasn’t doing much to bolster Otacon’s confidence in it. “Does it go forward, too?”

“I haven’t tested that out yet,” Sunny said, “it’s hypothetically possible, but that’s why we’re only sending you back an hour, because then it’s not a big deal if you can’t go forward.”

“I guess you have a point…” Despite Otacon’s misgivings, he had to admit it was _really cool_ and he was immensely proud of his daughter for pulling it off. And, anyway, he was going into this was some pretty solid proof that it had worked and hadn’t had any immediate, like, health consequences or weird changes in history or anything. Sunny wasn’t the type to fake those texts, after all, and they had definitely come from Otacon’s phone (though not just yet).

“So, are you up for it, Hal?”

“Well, I guess so. But only one hour, right?”

“Yup!”

Sunny handed him something that looked kind of like the key fob to a car, but bigger. As far as user interface went, all there was was a little numerical keyboard and a small screen. Sunny had already entered today’s date and the current time minus one hour, give or take a few minutes.

“So… how do I activate it?” Otacon said.

“Just hit enter!” Sunny said, “and make sure you text me when you’re done travelling through time!”

“Okay, here goes…”

???, ???.

Well, this definitely wasn’t Texas. 

Otacon looked around, rubbing his head. He wasn’t sure if it was the time-travel or the sudden humidity that had given him a headache and disoriented him so bad, but— where was this, Florida? Did Florida have trees this dense? This was, like, straight up rainforest. Otacon was _pretty sure_ there weren’t any jungles anywhere _near_ Texas.

He checked his phone. It was giving him the exact same time and date as he left - probably because he had absolutely no signal whatsoever. Looking around, he thought maybe he was in the middle of nowhere. Where was- _when_ was he? All he knew what that he _somehow_ ended up in Texas an hour before he agreed to do Sunny’s experiment.

In a flash of inspiration, he checked the screen on the time-travel gadget. …1970? No wonder he didn’t have cell signal… wait.

“ _1970?!_ ” Otacon said out loud in shock, “I was only supposed to go back an _hour!_ Oh man… this is almost the worst thing could have happened, how am I gonna— can this get any-?”

He was interrupted by a 6x6 canvas-backed truck with USSR markings almost running him over.

The driver blared the horn several seconds too late, after Otacon was already on the ground, covered in mud (and only barely shoving the time-travel gadget back in his pocket). “Woah there!” someone yelled, leaning out of the driver’s side window. Otacon squinted up at him, glasses askew. He had no idea who this was. “You _really_ don’t look like you’re from around here.”

“Uh, yeah,” Otacon said to him, “I’m… lost.”

“Well, climb in back, we’ll give you a ride back to base camp. Maybe you can figure out where you’re going from there - try to get back to a place that’s actually on the map, ha!”

“Ha… right… okay.” The more the guy talked the more Otacon found something naggingly familiar about him, but couldn’t place what. He honestly couldn’t think of _anyone_ he knew or had ever known who looked, sounded, or spoke like this guy. And he was pretty sure he would have remembered if he’d ever met this guy he would have remembered, because was… pretty attractive.

Otacon climbed in back. In back were a bunch of Soviet soldiers, which he guessed was fitting because it was apparently 1970. The soldiers looked at him curiously - those that were awake, anyway, a lot of them were asleep, almost like they’d been tranquilized or something. Also, Otacon didn’t readily associate Soviet Russia with tropical rainforest, so…

“Uh, who are you, anyway?” Otacon asked the driver.

“Name’s Roy Campbell,” the driver replied, “we’re going back to base camp to meet up with Big Boss and the rest of our rebel group!”

“Oh,” Otacon said.

 _Fuck_.

San Hieronymo peninsula, Columbia; anti-FOX Unit army(???) base camp, 1970.

The first thing Otacon noticed about Big Boss was that, well, he looked exactly like Snake, except with an eyepatch. Obviously. Otacon had known about the whole clone thing roughly as long as Snake had - or had Liquid told him about it even before then? That was so long ago now that Otacon honestly couldn’t quite remember — he wasn’t _surprised_ that Big Boss looked like Snake, it was just that he’d literally never seen so much as a photograph of Big Boss as a young man. He was in his mid-thirties or thereabouts in 1970, making him younger than Otacon. Wild.

Of course there was no reason for Otacon’s existence to particularly register with Big Boss. He wasn’t _conspicuously_ a time-traveller or anything; he was wearing a plain t-shirt and jeans, which wasn’t out of place at all in the seventies, and kept both his time-travel gadget and his cell phone hidden. And of course Big Boss wouldn’t know about Otacon’s relationship(s) with his sons, they hadn’t even been born yet. Again, wild. Anyway, Otacon was shuffled through the camp, automatically assumed to be another recruit. Someone named Johnathan asked his name, he fumbled - he knew his father had known Big Boss, but wasn’t sure what year, so maybe things would be bad if there were already an Emmerich around here somewhere (the prospect made him extra nervous) or if Big Boss remembered the name when he met Huey later — Johnathan gave him the codename “Mud Worm”.

“Very funny,” Otacon said, looking down at himself. He needed a change of clothes. Johnathan just shrugged.

Well, it didn’t matter. Otacon was just here to be out of the elements while he reverse-engineered the time-travel gadget to bring him back to 2018. Sunny had only programmed it to go into the past, though they’d established it was possible to go into the future - and while Sunny might be better than Otacon, Otacon wasn’t exactly a sham with tech himself. He could get this thing working the way he wanted to, it just might take a little bit of time.

“You’re pretty skinny for a soldier,” someone whose codename Otacon did not catch said to him, “or, wait, are you a medic or something?”

“Engineer,” Otacon said reflexively. He hoped he wasn’t about to get a breaking-in assignment, he didn’t know a whole lot about seventies technology. He slipped away from the main crowd before that could happen.

To his surprise, in the more isolated area behind the makeshift tents (and trucks used, apparently, as sleeping quarters and a field hospital), he bumped into Big Boss - almost literally, he didn’t see the man standing there and very nearly collided into him.

Big Boss made a familiar, Snake-like grumble as he scrutinized Otacon. Otacon adjusted his glasses anxiously. “Aren’t you that guy that Campbell almost ran over in the jungle?” Oh boy he even sounded exactly like Snake. Since Snake’s brothers both had radically different voices than Snake and each other, it had never occured to Otacon that any of the three would sound like their father.

“Um, yes sir,” Otacon said awkwardly, not knowing how address him.

“Codename?”

It took Otacon a second to remember it. “Mud Worm,” he said. Big Boss laughed. Otacon was embarrassed but knew it was only fair. Besides, he’d already decided he wouldn’t tell anyone his real name.

“Johnathan sure knows how to pick ‘em, huh soldier? …you look like you could use a change of clothes, though.”

Otacon nodded. Definitely. “Uh, listen, what’s the procedure for when one of your recruits suddenly disappears?”

Big Boss stopped chuckling and eyed him critically instead. “Why?” he asked, “are you planning on running off?”

“Well, to be honest, I didn’t mean to sign up. I’m just passing through.”

“Where are you from?”

It was a sudden question, so Otacon answered it without thinking: “I live in Colorado with my daughter.”

“Daughter? And you’re an American, huh? I thought so.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I think everyone here just wants to go home. I don’t blame you if you have a way to do that.”

Otacon nodded.

Big Boss shrugged. “In the meantime, don’t you need a change of clothes?” He didn’t wait for Otacon to answer, just started walking off; Otacon wouldn’t have known the slight head jerk and grunt to mean ‘follow me’ if he hadn’t known Snake so well. Otacon followed.

From the looks of things, Big Boss had his own private tent. It was on the edge of what seemed to be the camp boundaries and was a little smaller than the others - just big enough for a cot and a couple wooden crates. Big Boss pulled a set of clothes out of one of the crates and handed it Otacon - Otacon stared at it blankly for a moment, wondering awkwardly if Big Boss was going to leave the tent for a moment so he could change, or if Otacon was supposed to find someplace else, or…

“What are you waiting for?” Big Boss said, taking out a cigar, “are they the wrong size?”

“Is there… anywhere I can…?”

“Right here’s fine,” Big Boss said, giving him a quizzical look. He didn’t step out, but also didn’t pay much attention to Otacon, instead focusing on a stubborn lighter refusing to spit out a flame for his cigar.

 _Okay,_ Otacon thought. _At least my underclothes are all still clean, I just need to change shirt and pants. Not that bad._ Well, maybe yes that bad because Otacon hadn’t gotten his dick wet since before Snake died and also a pretty significant chunk of brain real estate was currently stuck on the fact that he’d taken (would take? no, better not to get into past tense-related semantics re: time travel) all three of this guy’s sons’ virginities, and they looked just like him.

He noticed Big Boss staring at him.

“What?” he said, defensively holding his shirt up to his now-bare chest.

“You were looking at me funny,” Big Boss grumbled.

“I… oh.” He was kind of expecting Big Boss to comment on his-

“You’re scrawny.”

—body, yeah.

“I’m not a soldier, I’m an engineer,” Otacon said tersely.

Big Boss gave him a critical look. “Even engineers have to keep in shape. You’re not sick, are you?”

“No, I mean, I’m civilian engineer, not military. Worked on military tech, though.”

“What kind?”

“Oh… stuff.” Probably shouldn’t have gone into even _that_ much detail about his profession, Otacon was now realizing. But even if he was starting to get dangerously close to rambling, it was blindingly obvious that he should under no circumstances mention that he worked on (multiple versions of) Metal Gear.

Fortunately Big Boss didn’t press - maybe he was used to dealing with people still hesitant to talk about classified information? Otacon put his new shirt on and went to change pants, turning away, though he caught Big Boss still looking at him thoughtfully before he turned.

“And you’re pretty pale for someone who’s been running around in the jungle,” Big Boss said abruptly, “clean, too."

“I’m not some kind of rainforest explorer, I was just passing through. I wasn’t out there that long.”

“You weren’t near any settlements.”

“It’s a long story.”

Otacon jumped as he felt Big Boss’ hand on his waist. Oh shit, he was suspicious of him, right? And was about to CQC him into submission? Otacon couldn’t recall a move that started like this - Big Boss spinning him around to face him, pants still unbuttoned - but maybe Big Boss had a few techniques he’d never handed down to Snake.

“Something’s fishy,” Big Boss said like it was only now occurring to him.

“I’ll be honest, sir, I don’t really have any idea what the FOX Unit even is.” That was a half-lie; back when Operation Snake Eater had been more or less declassified he’d read hints about the existence of the unit, then he’d gotten the rest of the details when EVA had explained everything to Snake during the whole Liquid Ocelot… thing. But neither of these sources ever mentioned the FOX Unit doing literally anything in Columbia, nor why Big Boss was gathering forces against them. His split-off from Zero hadn’t come until Les Enfants Terribles two years from now, right?

“So what are you doing here?”

“I told you. I was lost, and then Campbell nearly ran me over then gave me a ride.”

“Hrmmm.”

Otacon was starting to get uncomfortable with the fact that Big Boss was still clutching onto him, especially since it prevented him from fixing his pants. Big Boss seemed oblivious to this discomfort, though he did glance down, and Otacon’s face heated up.

“Don’t you have a wife or something?” Otacon said, thinking of EVA.

“…no.”

“Um. Sorry, I must be thinking of someone else.”

Big Boss narrowed his eye at him. “I’ve never been married, I can’t trust anyone that much. I’ve never even had a girlfriend.”

“What about a boyfriend?” Shit. Why did he say that.

Big Boss didn’t seem to think it was a weird question, even though it was 1970. “There was a guy who was obsessed with me, but no.”

 _Ocelot_ , Otacon thought, with an internal eye-roll. “What about Campbell?”

“Straight.”

“Damn.” Wait, what?

“You didn’t come here to get laid, did you?” Big Boss asked.

“Nnnno. Not that I’m averse to it or anything, though.” _Oh my god shut up shut up shut up!_

Big Boss finally let go of him and stepped back. “Hope you’re not thinking about me. There’s plenty of other men here, though.”

“Uh— what’s wrong with you?” _DIE_ , Otacon told himself.

Big Boss glanced away awkwardly, a move that Otacon knew was frequently imitated by his sons in the future. “I’ve never done it before.”

Otacon’s mind went blank.

He was going to do it. He was going to deflower _every single Snake_.

_And there was nothing anyone could do to stop him._

“Well,” he said, frankly giddy, “why don’t we change that?”

Big Boss seemed moderately hesitant for a brief moment, but then shrugged and inclined his head towards the cot.

So Otacon supposed that Snake was the one who’d been the most like Big Boss in bed, weird as that was, because of his brothers he’d been the only one to show any real initiative (and, perhaps, dominance) during his first time, which is what Big Boss was doing now, taking off Otacon’s borrowed pants before he’d even managed to finish putting them on. Then to his surprise Otacon got pushed back a bit on the cot and Big Boss went straight for his dick - with his mouth.

“Huh, are you sure you haven’t done this before?” Otacon said, unsure of what to do with his hands.

“This isn’t hard,” Big Boss grumbled. Sure, easy for him to say. It wasn’t as clumsy as Otacon was expecting but Big Boss didn’t know the ‘put lips over teeth’ thing and that problem only got worse as Otacon got more erect. Fortunately Big Boss listened to advice when Otacon brought it up, but…

“You’re much cleaner than I thought you’d be,” Big Boss commented, pulling off for a moment.

“Uh… yeah.” _Didn’t we establish this?_ Otacon thought, _or did you just not believe… you thought I was… and you still decided to suck my dick?_ In truth, Otacon had showered that morning, back in 2018. So while he was a bit sweaty from all the heat and humidity, he was legitimately clean. But Big Boss just… didn’t care? If it were Otacon, he would…

Otacon yelped at Big Boss’ hand suddenly coming into the mix, squeezing him just a _little_ too hard. In the meantime Big Boss was swallowing his cock like a- Otacon quickly nixed the mental comparison to a python. Namesake puns were just lame.

“Are you- absolutely sure you’ve never—“

Big Boss pulled off of him again, grumbling. “What’s the matter?”

“You are _way_ too good at this.”

“I know _how_ it works,” Big Boss hurgled sourly, “it’s not difficult.”

“…if you say so.” Otacon had to disagree, both on it not being difficult and on conceptual knowledge being enough to pass off as marginal experience, but Big Boss was a monster of a man and if he had super blowjob instincts then Otacon wasn’t going to question it.

Big Boss grabbed Otacon’s thighs, pushing him back on the cot, presenting his ass. Immediately Otacon’s hackles were raised. He wasn’t against bottoming - in fact, he enjoyed it, if not as much as he did topping - but since Big Boss insisted that he was a virgin then Otacon was not about to trust him to use the proper amount of lube— did they even _have_ any out here in the jungle?! “Hey, wait a minute,” Otacon started as Big Boss unzipped his own pants, freeing his erection.

He did not wait a minute. He also did not do what Otacon was expecting him to do - instead he knelt down again and got his mouth back at Otacon’s crotch, this time at his balls, and then- down—

Holy shit Big Boss ate ass?

Even Snake didn’t do that. Or anyone else Otacon ever slept with, though he probably could have convinced Liquid to if it had occured to him back then. So suffice to say it was a new sensation, and kind of a weird one, and- “I don’t think you’re supposed to use your teeth,” Otacon said waveringly.

“Hrng.”

Vaguely he wondered if Big Boss had been planning to do this regardless of how clean Otacon was; since Otacon didn’t know much about the man, he couldn’t say if that was in-character or not. But mostly he was just thinking about the feeling of tongue against his asshole. Relaxing into the sensation, he was rewarded with tongue probing _into_ his asshole, which made a shudder go through his whole body. He didn’t know he was that sensitive down there - or had he just forgotten?

Damn, he missed Snake. Fortunately, right now the grief was overshadowed by his dick squishing against Snake’s father’s forehead and the faint but hot _slchh_ sound of Big Boss pumping his own cock below him.

 _Oh, geez_ …, Otacon thought. How did he get himself into these situations? He’d heard that in China, “May you live an interesting life” was a curse. He didn’t feel particularly cursed at the moment, though this was certainly interesting.

Big Boss paused. “You’re awfully quiet.”

Otacon started. “Er— sorry, I’m not much of a…”

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

 _Shit_. “Yeah, of course I am.” He was practically ready to nut right now. “Keep going… please?”

Big Boss chuckled, a low sound (a familiar sound) and Otacon did in fact almost nut. “That’s what I want to hear.”

…

In the end, Otacon only stayed at the camp for two nights, and had the time-travel gadget jailbroke and ready for reprogramming by the first evening. At no point was his little tryst with Big Boss repeated, though judging by the cheerful smack on the ass Campbell gave him - _yikes_ \- Big Boss was in fact the type to kiss and tell, at least to certain people. On the third morning, he reset the destination time to where he’d left from, said a silent, insincere prayer, and hit enter. He didn’t bother saying goodbye.

Suddenly he was at the side of a road, near a big green sign stating 18 miles to Houston and 261 to Dallas. Immediately he checked his phone. He had signal, and it had already automatically adjusted for the current time. One hour before he left.

Pulling up the messaging app, he decided not to tell Sunny about San Hieronymo. Yet. At least in _that_ much detail.

**Author's Note:**

> PW sequel where Otacon fucks the medic y/n?


End file.
